Zara's Game

by Jo Black

  ‘Then perhaps it is time she was replaced by a younger mistress.’

  Alex let out a soft smile. ‘The problem with young mistresses Mikhail, is their loyalty is not a given, and they are fickle. Be careful you don’t throw away your mother who has fed and nurtured you in pursuit of some tantalising bit of skirt who will quickly betray you for the next.’

  ‘And what of you Aleksandr? Do you think your mother approves of your choice?’

  Alex smiled softly. ‘I believe she will become everything my mother hoped she would be.’ Alex looked a bit saddened.

  Mikhail noticed nodded. ‘I will tend her grave for you, in your absence. Fresh flowers every day. A bouquet of white orchids, and a single black. From my own garden.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It’s nothing. As you say, we must not abandon our mothers even when our heart is led in another direction.’ Mikhail let a brief soft smile loose. ‘Let us not part as enemies Alex. For my part, we will always be friends, but business is business, and friendship is friendship. You know how things work here.’

  ‘Yes, I most certainly do. We will part as friends Mikhail. But as a friend I give you my warning, so you don’t find yourself in harm’s way. If they send their people, I will burn their house to the ground, with all their children in it.’

  ‘They understand.’

  ‘Make them. Leave them in no doubt. Rank, no rank. Charter, no charter. If they take that which is most precious from The Dragon they will see a wrath the like of which they have never witnessed before.’ Mikhail felt a sudden chill in the room, his eyes were drawn to the fire as the flames suddenly died down and flickered out before restoring.

  ‘I understand you Aleksandr Dragunov. If they come, it will not be from me.’

  ‘Is there any way back? Whilst my mind is indeed set towards retirement with the return of Zara, I would at least wish to leave the legacy of the Russia House intact for my successor.’

  ‘There is a way. Radic. He holds information that is of great importance to Russia’s national security interests. Information which would be better if it was not disclosed in The Hague. It would be very damaging for our reputation that we are working so hard to rebuild on the world stage.’

  ‘If you are concerned about Radic telling tales of our involvement in the genocide of Bosnians, I think the cat is fairly out of the bag already.’

  ‘There are other matters. More contemporaneous affairs.’

  ‘Can’t the F.S.B arrange his untimely death?’

  ‘Sadly Radic was well trained by the K.G.B, he took measures to secure the information as an insurance policy. Only he knows where it is. We would take steps to recover him, but we prefer to keep our involvement at arm’s length.’

  ‘So it seems the Russia House does have its uses, even in your brave new world, Mikhail.’

  ‘It would help remind people that even in our future, it pays to have access to those with connections built over our past.’

  ‘I’ll consider your proposal. Assuming I was to help in this expedition, exactly what do you offer by way of compensation?’

  ‘Your seat at the new table. Albeit under, shall we say, a reformed agenda of modernisation.’

  ‘Let me think on it. There is a cost to everything. I need time to consider if the cost of Radic’s freedom is being suitably compensated.’ Alex got up. Mikhail walked over. He kissed Alex on each cheek and hugged him briefly.

  ‘Think over my proposal. As it stands you have 24 hours to conclude your affairs then the charter will expire. Luck be with you.’

  Alex nodded. ‘I’m a Dragon Mikhail. Luck is always with me. I’ll see myself out.’ Alex looked down at Ludmila. ‘Tell her I said goodbye. Try and keep her away from those Turks Mikhail. Get her a good husband. She brings dishonour to your family.’

  ‘Daughters are made to trouble their fathers. You will maybe understand this one day.’

  ‘Maybe you should be a better father. If you spent more time with her, and less time in the arms trade chasing profit, she would not need to get your attention with such foolish behaviour. Goodbye Mikhail.’

  Mikhail watched Alex depart then turned his attention to his daughter in the suitcase. ‘Do you want to open it?’ he asked Igor. Igor looked frightened at the prospect and shook his head. ‘No, neither do I. I think I would have preferred if he had brought a bomb...’

  52

  Alex’s limousine made its way towards the airport. He took out his phone. ‘It’s Alex. I spoke to Mikhail.’

  ‘And?’ Nish asked.

  ‘We have twenty four hours.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘He offered us a reprieve, but I fear you will not like the bargain he offers.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘We’ll discuss it when I get home. I need to consider if it is worth discussing or not.’

  ‘What makes you think it isn’t?’

  ‘It feels an inequitable bargain. He offers payment in a currency the value of which we cannot determine. Hold on a minute.’ Alex looked round as the blue flashing lights from behind illuminated inside the car. He turned to his driver. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I don’t know. Black BMW. F.S.B from the look of it. What do you want me to do? Your pistol is in the glove box.’

  Alex looked thoughtful. He put the phone back to his ear. ‘Problem?’ Nish asked.

  ‘I don’t know. F.S.B.’

  ‘Mikhail? Where are you?’

  ‘On the coast road towards the airport.’

  ‘I can call ahead. Get a helicopter up.’

  ‘No, it’s too late for that. I’ll call you at the plane.’

  ‘And if you don’t?’

  ‘Then you better bake that cake...’ Alex put the phone down.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ the driver asked. Alex considered his options briefly before responding.

  ‘You better pull over. If it goes badly, call Nish. He’ll know what to do.’

  ‘Let me go and see first.’

  ‘No. I have to deal with this, one way or the other.’

  Alex’s driver pulled in to the side of the road. The following convoy of three cars pulled in behind them. The lead car flashed its lights. Alex stayed in the car. Eventually the two rear doors opened and a pair of black-suited F.S.B agents emerged. They walked over to each side of the car. The one on Alex’s side knocked on his window. Alex lowered it.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ Alex asked in Russian.

  ‘We’re sorry to delay you Marshal Dragunov. We’ll call ahead and inform your pilot you’ll be delayed.’

  ‘And why will I be delayed? I understand I have twenty-four hours.’

  ‘This is the problem Marshal. Please step out of the car.’ Alex took a short inhaled annoyed breath to make his displeasure known. He opened the door and got out of the car. The F.S.B agent closed it behind him.

  The second agent walked over to his driver’s window. ‘You can leave now, we will take care of the Marshal from here.’

  ‘I do not take my orders from you, I take my orders from the Marshal.’

  The F.S.B agent looked across to Alex. ‘Please inform your driver he can leave. This is a matter of state security. I have to insist.’

  Alex walked over to the passenger window. His driver lowered it. ‘You remember these boys faces Micha. If we do not see each other again, you be sure to visit their families for me.’ Alex shot them each a cold stare. ‘And if Micha does not go home to his wife tonight, I will know who to blame.’

  ‘There is no problem here Marshal.’

  Alex leant down to his driver. ‘I want you to give a message for me, if I am unable to. Tell my wife, tell Zara-’ Alex shook his head as he tried to think of some words. ‘If I do not come back, look for me at the cottage by the mountain. She will know the place.’

  ‘I will pass your message on. God be with you Aleksei.’

  ‘God be with you Micha. Tell your wife to go easy on the potatoes. You’re getting fat.’ Micha
smiled. Alex watched as he drove off to the distance. The F.S.B agent gestured at the waiting car in the middle of the convoy. Alex slowly walked over to it. The rear passenger electric window rolled down.

  ‘Hello Aleksandr,’ the passenger said. Dressed in a full Marshal of the F.S.B uniform. ‘I’m glad to see you have not become complacent in the training I gave you.’

  ‘Hello Grigor. I wondered whom they would send. I should be honoured they hold me in such high esteem that they sent the boss to do it.’

  ‘Get in the car Aleksandr. You will catch your death in this cold.’ The F.S.B agent opened the opposite rear door and gestured at it. Alex drew a deep breath, walked round and got in. The car pulled away.

  ‘So what is it to be Grigor? Bullet in the head and a shallow grave? Poison in the hip-flask of Johnny Walker Black Label you have in your jacket pocket, perhaps a fake suicide?’

  Grigor laughed softly. ‘I don’t know Aleksandr, how does one go about killing a dragon? How did Saint George do it?’

  ‘I don’t know Grigor. I didn’t read that fairy story.’

  ‘You never answer your phone. I did call.’

  ‘Maybe bad reception.’

  ‘I hear the network in Libya is not so great. You didn’t want to enjoy better hospitality with our friends in Damascus?’

  ‘Maybe I just wanted a change of scenery.’

  ‘There is no scenery in Libya.’

  ‘I like Tobruk.’

  ‘We need to talk Aleksandr.’

  ‘Just talk?’

  ‘How can we decide what we must do if we do not talk?’

  ‘I was under the impression it was already decided.’

  ‘Nothing is decided until we understand everything.’

  ‘And what do you not understand Grigor?’

  ‘I thought it was obvious...’

  ‘It is not.’

  ‘Well, why is it that the kingmaker has decided to help depose the king, of course.’ Alex looked slightly taken aback. ‘He did not believe this rumour he is hearing, he did not want to believe this rumour he is hearing, so he sent me here to ask you in person. So tell me Aleksandr, why are you helping our enemies remove the King from the Red Castle?’

  ‘I was not aware I was, Grigor.’

  ‘Then it seems we both do not understand everything...’

  ‘It seems we do not.’ Alex looked out the window. He stared lost in his thoughts.

  ‘Drink?’ Alex returned his attention and looked at Grigor offering him his silver flask.

  ‘Is it poisoned?’

  ‘Hah!’ Grigor responded. He knocked it back. ‘How little you trust. I suppose I am to blame for that.’ Alex stared out of the window again. He tried to piece the puzzle together. Then he nodded.

  ‘But of course. Now it all makes sense.’

  ‘I hope so Aleksei. For all our sakes...’ Grigor said looking serious.

  53

  Hunter returned to the small bar on the corner’s payphone and picked up his message. He frowned when it was not as expected. He replaced the phone and walked over to the bar. ‘Un Pernod.’ He paid with a ten Euro note. ‘Keep the change.’ He finished his drink quickly before leaving the bar and walking down the street to where a black Audi A8 was waiting. The smart suited driver got out and opened the rear door. Hunter got in and sank into the back seat alongside The Frenchman: Dufort. The driver returned to his seat and drove down the hill out of Montmartre onto the main road.

  ‘Forgive me for changing our delivery arrangements at such short notice. As part of your confidentiality premium I became aware the usual place was under observation. It seems many eyes have fallen on Paris, and we must tread through the shadows to preserve our agreements.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘We will drive you to the airport.’

  ‘Is that included in the fee?’

  ‘My contract includes safe delivery of the information, that involves keeping the recipient alive long enough to read it. You are in my safekeeping until I have fulfilled my arrangement with you.’

  ‘Am I in danger?’ Hunter asked.

  ‘I am surprised you need ask, a better question is, are you in immediate danger? And the answer is most certainly yes. There was a sniper waiting for you at the church. It seems someone does not intend to let you leave with that dossier, given its history this should come as no surprise to you.’

  ‘You have it?’

  ‘Do you have payment?’ Hunter took out an envelope. Dufort opened it and glanced at the international wire transfer bearer cheque made out for 2.5 million US Dollars. ‘The case,’ he said to his front security guard. The guard passed a silver case to Dufort. He typed in a combination code and passed the case to Hunter. Hunter took it, opened the case, took out the file from within and flicked through it. Dufort pressed the internal rear map light to give him better light in the darkness of the car’s cabin as they made their way to the outer ring road. Hunter scanned the documents. ‘Is everything to your satisfaction?’

  ‘It appears to be in order.’

  ‘The other part of our arrangement I expect you to honour at your earliest convenience. You understand the terms of this credit arrangement should you default, so I do not need to explain them to you.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘In order to facilitate the recovery to my benefit I am prepared to give you some guidance as to how best to proceed, at no charge. I believe you participated in providing the means by which your former colleague Zara Scott was liberated. Since she has now found her path to freedom, I assume she will have some gratitude for your part in it. Naturally I expect she has some influence over her husband’s actions, and my understanding is he has been offered an opportunity to arrange Mister Radic’s release from custody. I would advise you to use your favourable position with his wife at your advantage to ensure that he acts upon this, and in doing so recovers the documents my client has requested.’

  ‘I’ll ask.’

  ‘You will.’ Hunter replaced the dossier in the case. ‘I would take great care of what has come into your possession. The information it contains is causing considerable activity in our world, and it appears the forces behind it are prepared to go to exceptional lengths to keep this secret hidden.’

  ‘So why didn’t they pay you to keep it secret?’

  Dufort smiled. ‘I am in the business of liberating information. Keeping secrets is not a profitable enterprise in my line of work.’ The car arrived shortly after at the gates of the jet terminal. ‘You will be in touch when you are ready to conclude our arrangement?’

  ‘I will. I have one question. You know who is behind it?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And if I needed it, you could arrange a meeting?’

  ‘I could facilitate a request, it would be his decision to accept or not.’

  ‘Do you think he would?’

  ‘It depends if you have something to offer him.’

  ‘What do you think he wants?’

  ‘I don’t know. I could find out...for a price. Would you be interested in purchasing?’

  ‘I could be. Let me think about it. I need to take a look at this and decide how I want to act.’

  ‘Of course. Until our next meeting. Bon voyage.’

  ‘Bonsoir.’ Hunter got out of the car. He walked over to the gate security. ‘Mister Hunter. I’m expected at hanger three.’

  ‘One moment Sir. We will call through to let them know you have arrived, and ask them to send a car.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Hunter took a seat in the guardroom waiting area. The guard post made a phone call then looked up. ‘They are on the way.’

  A car arrived several minutes later. ‘Your car is here Sir. Have a good flight.’

  ‘Merci. Bonsoir.’ Hunter went to the car and got in. It drove round to the hanger where Alex’s Challenger 604 was waiting for departure with the engines running. The driver opened the door, Hunter got out and walked over to the waiting plane.

 
; 54

  Hunter sat down opposite Zara. Nish got up. ‘I’ll tell the pilot we’re ready to go.’ Nish walked through towards the cockpit and helped close the door on the way.

  ‘Well? Was your meeting successful?’ Zara asked.

  ‘Yeah. You got anything to drink on this thing?’

  ‘Nish,’ Zara called. ‘Something to celebrate.’

  ‘A little early for celebrations...’

  ‘Any excuse really.’ Zara smiled. Nish brought back a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and served three glasses before sinking back into his seat. Zara held up her glass for a toast. ‘When in Paris, drink champagne. To new business relationships.’

  ‘To living dangerously,’ Hunter said with a sigh. They drank their champagne as the plane headed down the taxiway towards the runway.

  ‘Nish. Meet your new client. Hunter, your P.M.C outfit.’

  Hunter looked at Nish. ‘Are the Russians working for me, or am I working for the Russians?’

  ‘You’re behind the news Hunter. We got kicked out. We’ll soon be Swiss.’

  Zara looked down at the case. ‘You have any trouble?’

  ‘Some. Paris is crowded, if you get my drift. Whatever is in here, it’s toxic.’

  ‘Toxic being the operative word...’ Nish said refilling their glasses.

  ‘So what’s this all about?’ Hunter asked.

  ‘Take a wild fucking guess.’ Zara replied.

  ‘It’s not this bullshit M.D.S, and it’s not A.Q.’

  ‘Saddam. What do you get for 650 million on the black market that you don’t want anyone to know you bought, so nobody knows you bought it, and gives you a de-facto ability to go to war against a sovereign country that isn’t your neighbour?’ Zara asked.

  ‘W.M.D...it had to be didn’t it? They knew he didn’t have it, so they just decided to fit him up anyway. Sons of bitches. There is no lie too big they won’t tell. So what’s in here?’ Hunter asked tapping the case.

  ‘Shell companies. Payments. Invoices. I assume the package was cooked up at arm’s length so they can then change the beneficiaries and produce the smoking gun documentary evidence that the whole thing was Saddam’s doing. What’s the betting that dossier is going to turn up at some U.N meeting or congressional oversight committee as irrefutable proof that Saddam bought W.M.D from all the dirty sellers. Then when they dig that shit up after the invasion from wherever they hid it in Iraq, they can say we told you so.’